02.23.06
Just us boys
I’ve been spending a lot of time with gay people lately. One on one, in groups — I think I’ve met more gay guys since moving to the Bay Area than I’ve met in my entire life. My new life in California seems to have drawn out my homojo (a word shamelessly taken from the title of a Will & Grace episode), if you will.
When Mark and I were together, we never really had any gay friends. Keeping away from the “scene” was his way of keeping all the drama as far away as possible. Needless to say, since he and I met when I was 19, I couldn’t help but think that I might have been missing out on something during my early twenties — and it turns out that I was — but it wasn’t what I thought. Having seen Queer as Folk, I figured that I had only missed out on drug-enhanced sex orgies in the back rooms of steamy night clubs. While I’m happy to say that I did miss that (assuming that it even exists somewhere), I was also missing an opportunity for comradery.
I’ve been so social over the past few weeks that I’ve surprised myself. I’ve gone to karaoke twice, been bowling, met new people from online, gone to brunch, had a mini-cocktail party, and gone out to dinner numerous times, all in the direct company of gay men. Rather than it being a source of stress and drama, it’s been really nice to be able to relate to male friends on a personal level. All my friends have always been girls. I’ll now pause for a moment for the crowd to smirk at the stereotype I’ve effortlessly perpetuated. Now, the girls’ names that have been so much a part of my daily vocabulary — Ami, Jen, Roopa, Jessica, Kelsie — have been augmented, or almost replaced, with guys — Ernie, Andy, Josh, Dominic.
Now, I finally find myself being able to relate to people who are like me in a lot of ways. I’m thinking that this is a product of life in Northern California. I feel like one of the Sneetches with a star on its belly, happily frolicking with my own kind, and that feeling is very freeing to me. My entire life, I’ve really enjoyed being different, and I usually found myself drawn to the “weird” kids. My mother always used to tell me that I’m a “weirdo magnet” because I managed to befriend the opera-singing vampire wiccan lesbians. Now, rather than being one of a crowd of misfits, I feel right at home with others cut from the same mold as me.
Still, with all this newfound “belonging” comes a bit of apprehension. Because I haven’t had many gay male friends, it’s sometimes hard to know how to fit in just right. I find myself doing absurd things, like buying a new outfit to go out on a totally random Friday night, simply because Andy and I will be bar-hopping in the Castro. I ponder whether or not I own enough different pairs of shoes for different occasions. I’ve never really been “one of the crowd” and I’ve generally had very small groups of friends, so going out with people who recognize (and stop to hug) every third guy we see on the street is a very strange experience for me.
I suppose what I’m learning is that at 24, I don’t really need to know exactly who I am or where I do or don’t fit in. But I’ll be damned sure to keep trying. 